


Seconds, Minutes, Lifetimes

by HennessyWilliams



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Berner, Bertolt is Precious, Bertolt spelt as Bertholdt, Cheesy, Childhood Memories, Childhood Sweethearts, Consecutive Updates, Copium, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Memories, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Non-Chronological, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Linear Narrative, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panzer unit - Freeform, PokkuPiku, PokuPiku, Porco is SIMP, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protect Reiner At All Costs, References to Depression, Reibert - Freeform, Sad, Sad and Happy, Set in 24 Hours, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Manga Spoilers, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Slow Burn, Smoking, Snippets, Soft!Porco, Time Skips, Titans, Tragic Romance, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, best girl, gallirei, pokkupikku, warriors - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-22 05:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30034050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HennessyWilliams/pseuds/HennessyWilliams
Summary: On the last day of her term as the Cart Titan, Pieck reflects on her past and ties up a few loose ends. But an unspoken intuition stops her from seeing Porco.*Consecutive Uploads, from 14/3 to 19/3*
Relationships: Colt Grice & Falco Grice, Gabi Braun & Reiner Braun, Pieck Finger & Porco Galliard, Pieck Finger & Zeke Yeager, Pieck Finger/Porco Galliard, Porco Galliard & Colt Grice, Reiner Braun & Bertolt Hoover, Reiner Braun & Pieck Finger, Reiner Braun & Porco Galliard, Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover, Reiner/Happiness
Comments: 20
Kudos: 47





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> \- This story occurs about six years after part 2 of season 3; the Marley Mid-East war stays, but everything else goes into canon divergence AU  
> \- All set within 24 hours, one day before Pieck’s Cart titan will be transferred to Udo. Chunks of text in italics, or under three asterisks signify flashbacks  
> \- This is a 5-part series that I will be uploading for five consecutive days. I’m always happy to hear what you guys think, or any form of constructive feedback! 
> 
> **Today's Song** : [Blue Skies (Cover by Birdy)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XYw1e_99PUs)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This story occurs about six years after part 2 of season 3; the Marley Mid-East war stays, but everything else goes into canon divergence AU  
> \- All set within 24 hours, one day before Pieck’s Cart titan will be transferred to Udo. Chunks of text in italics, or under three asterisks signify flashbacks  
> \- This is a 5-part series that I will be uploading for five consecutive days. I’m always happy to hear what you guys think, or any form of constructive feedback! 
> 
> **Today's Song** : [Blue Skies (Cover by Birdy)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XYw1e_99PUs)  
> 

_“I-I think it’s best we don’t see each other until Monday.”_

_“Hey, what’s wrong?” He takes her by the hand and leads her aside, the tall marble column now shielding them from the lines of Marleyan soldiers crowding the mess hall._

_“I need some time apart. To think. On my own.”_

_“Did I do anything wrong?”_

_“No!” She looks into his amber eyes, now wide and glistening. “I strictly forbid you from blaming yourself for anything.”_

_“Pieck, calm down. We can talk this out.”_

_“I’m sorry Pokko.” She forcefully removes her hand from his grip. “My decision is final.”_

**12:00 pm**

Pieck lays a bouquet of golden marguerite daisies on the tombstone, its surface now dusted and polished. She fishes a box of strawberries out of her messenger bag and places it next to the flowers.

**A true fighter to the end  
BERTHOLDT HOOVER  
Dec. 30, 834 - May. 4, 850  
Beloved Warrior and son**

Pieck got the chance to properly know Bertholdt for about six months, after he came back from Paradis Island with the usurper of the Jaw strapped to his back. She was surprised to see how tall and physically capable he became - the former should have been expected since he grew up with the power of the Colossal. But Pieck was even more surprised when she found the shifter occupying her usual spot under a maple tree, located in a far corner of the internment zone with a familiar book in his hands.

_“Mind if I join?” Bertholdt glances up from his copy of ‘Armours in the Age of Titans’ and greets Pieck with a soft smile. He pats at the empty patch of grass next to him._

_“It’s the age-old argument: can the hardest shield withstand the sharpest spear.” Pieck plops down on the ground and unclasps the buckle on her messenger bag._

_“Goldstein says all titan flesh is impenetrable.”_

_“But what do you think?”_

_“I don’t know. I saw the Founder nearly bust open the Armoured’s neck, so I’m not sure.”_

_“I say Goldstein doesn’t know a thing about titans.” Pieck removes the lid of her plastic container and hands the box to Bertholdt. “Strawberry?”_

_“That’s a bold statement to make.” His eyes are wandering over the strawberries, each red, plump and juicy before finally landing on one. “What’s your counterargument?”_

_“I’ll give Goldstein the benefit of the doubt, since this stuff was written hundreds of years ago. For starters, we all know that titans can heal incisions to the flesh, but deep ones can still be deadly. We also know that smaller titans like my Cart can’t withstand severe artillery bombardment without armaments.”_

_“True- wow these are good!”_

_“Treat yourself to more. Anyways, the real debate lies with our hardening and bones. I hypothesise that our bones - ears, teeth, Marcel’s mask included - are actually a lot more durable than we think, and are immune to changes in our bodily conditions. But I’m still figuring out how we can use this to our advantage in battle. Our hardening is of course stronger than our bones, but hear me out: I think the Jaw’s teeth and claws might even be stronger than any of our hardening.”_

_“Do you mean we can use the Jaw to get Annie out of her crystal casing?”_

_“I can’t say for sure, but there’s a good chance. I wanna get the next Jaw to test it out with Reiner, if the military allows.”_

_Bertholdt draws his knees even closer to his chest. “Can I be honest with you?”_

_“Yeah, of course.”_

_“I’m really worried about Reiner. The world’s changed so much in five years, and I’m not sure if he’s strong enough to hold out against the new heavy duty weapons that Magath briefed us on yesterday. He barely made it out of Paradis, and they only had swords and canons.”_

_“Then don’t read Goldstein. Read this.” She tosses him her copy of ‘Equipping the Modern Age’._

_“Thanks.” They spend the rest of the afternoon silently reading next to each other, enjoying the warmth of the sun, the strawberries and each other’s company.  
_

Pieck thought Bertholdt was a lot smarter than the others gave him credit for; true, Berthholdt lacked a pinch of self-assurance and never spoke up during their strategy meetings, but he would often share his insights with Pieck in private, and she was impressed by how widely read he got during his time in Paradis. She was also the only person who even came close to beating him in chess, and for a handful of times she actually did. Sometimes they’d bring Reiner and Porco to the tree; the two would either get into arguments (once over the proper pronunciation of ‘pomegranate’, but whenever Marcel is brought up someone would threaten to land a blow), or fall asleep within ten minutes of arriving - Reiner curled up like a cat next to Bertholdt, Porco’s head on Pieck’s lap. Pieck and Bertholdt would shoot each other an amused look, then get back to reading or continuing their hour-long chess matches.

Those six months of catching up - those were some of the most peaceful moments of her life. Everything almost felt normal.

_“Promise me, Piecky?” The two of them were alone today._

_“Okay now I understand why Pokko hates it when I call him that.”_

_“Aw, you two are too cute!”_

_“Shuddup Bertleturtle.”_

_“Ugh! Damn the kids!”_

_“Don’t be salty!” They burst into laughter, the book placed upside down on Bertholdt’s torso sliding down and hitting Pieck in the face. “OUCH!” They look over at each other, then laugh even harder._

_“But seriously, promise me? Please?”_

_“Fine. You know I won’t have to do it, but fine.”_

_“With Paradis, you never know.”_

She never went back to the tree after Paradis.

Pieck walks down another row of headstones and kneels before a smaller one, made of lavender blue granite.

**In loving memory of  
OLIVER FINGER  
Oct. 13, 795 - Sept. 26, 855  
He asked for so little, but gave so much  
Forever missed by his loving daughter**

Pieck wipes the surface with a cloth and places her last bouquet of white lilies on the stone. Today, she finds the strength to hold back her tears; her term as the Cart is expiring tomorrow anyways. Pieck traces a finger over her father’s portrait, still remembering each mole, each wrinkle, his raspy voice, his comforting smile. Hang on a little longer, papa. I’ll see you very soon.

*******

“He’s in his room.” Mrs. Galliard is leading Pieck down the short corridor, sunlight seeping in through the wooden panels. Yet such appearance of warmth in the Galliard household failed to match up with its actual atmosphere - a suffocating gloominess that held the family of now-three in a chokehold, by the loss of their brightest star. Pieck tightened her grip around her tote bag, recalling a similar ambience in her squatter dwelling when her Ma passed away.

“I’ll leave it to you two.”

“Thank you Mrs. Galliard.” The kind woman gave Pieck a gentle nod, then turns back towards the living room. The black shawl hanging over her shoulder slips down her back and brushes the floor; but she doesn’t pick it up and lets the fabric drag behind her feet - the heaviness of grief fully occupying her fragile mind.

Pieck gently turns the doorknob and peeks into the room; it takes her a short moment to completely process the scene playing out in front of her eyes. Porco is sitting on the side of his bed, pressing the end of a cigarette butt into his bare arm with gritted teeth. He watches it scorch and burn his skin with a numb fascination, then drags the stick further down his forearm to find a new patch of untainted skin among the land mine of fresh marks.

“PORCO!” Pieck rushes in and snatches the cigarette from Porco’s hand before he could look up, throwing it to the ground and crushing it underneath her leather boot. He hastily hides his left arm behind his back, wincing at the pain caused by the sudden muscle movement.

“Why didn’t you knock-“

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” Pieck tosses her bag onto the bed and pulls Porco’s arm out, yanking the sleeve of his bomber jacket further up. She is both infuriated and heartbroken by the scattering of burns dotted all over the inside of his forearm.

“Lower your voice, I don’t want my parents to hear! And I’m fine.” Pieck is close enough to sense the heavy cloud of smoke laced into Porco’s breath, from the very same cigarettes he vowed to throw away a number of months ago.

“You silly, stupid fool!” She closes her eyes tightly against the prickling of tears gathering behind the lids.

“Can you please leave? I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“No. I’m not leaving you.” The sheer forcefulness of her voice, a growl that he has never heard before, was enough to shut him up. Pieck takes a deep breath, partially regaining her composure, then digs into her bag to find the familiar red pouch - suddenly grateful that she has always carried around a travel-size first-aid kit owing to her father’s deteriorating health. She unzips it with trembling hands and pulls out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, pouring too much of the liquid onto a cotton round as Porco watches it drip onto her brown skirt. She presses the pad onto his wounds, causing him to let out a throaty groan from the stinging pain. Her heart jumps, worried that she has hurt him.

Pieck wants to scream at him, strangle him, slap some sense into him; she doesn’t understand why she is so _so_ angry but all she croaks out is a timid “I’m here.”

Truth be told, she’s scared. Terrified. She has no idea what she should do, and she is shaking as much as he is. They stay still for a while, letting Porco’s damaged skin soak up the alcohol when a blood-curling scream tears out of his throat. Then he is gasping for air, as if an invisible force is pushing a thumb deep into his throat, producing the primal sounds of a choked up, hurting young cub. His hands are flailing around, the cotton round slipping down his arm as he frantically grasps at nothing.

“Pokko, look at me.” His hands are now tugging onto strands of his hair. Porco could hear himself shrieking, but couldn’t feel where all the noise is coming from. “LOOK AT ME.” Pieck crouches down to meet him at eye level, her shaky hands flying up to cup his face. She could feel his alien gauntness, cheeks hollowed in due to an evident weight loss; this is hurting her in ways she didn’t know was possible.

Porco’s eyes dart around the room, desperately searching for something, anything to grapple onto until he encounters Pieck’s grey, heavy-lidded ones, looking into his with worry but warmth. Care, attentiveness, a burning instinct to protect. She grips onto his arms, bringing his unruly gesticulations to a standstill, her eyes never leaving his.

“Follow.” She breathes in and holds her breath. A few seconds pass, then he does the same. She waits. One. Two. Three. She breathes out, he follows.

In. Out.  
In. Out.  
In. Out.

Her thumb brushes over the burns to find his pulse. She feels him slowly calming down, heartbeat gradually steadying, his steadiness stabilising her - their two hearts brushing, breathing, beating as one.

“You won’t understand...”

“I’ll try. I promise you I will.”

“...It’s all my fault. If only I was stronger, I would have been out there with him. I would have done something.” Porco’s quivering lips catches the newest trail of tears. “He was the best of us. He was the one person who was going to make a difference, and I didn’t even say goodbye. I was too fucking childish and jealous and angry and I couldn’t bear to see him leave, to see fucking Reiner out of all people in my place, and I was scared he wasn’t going to come back, and I knew it _I knew it_ but I didn’t want to know, I-“

“Hey.” She laces her fingers with his, thumbs rubbing small circles on his knuckles. “We were all children. We really didn’t know anything better, and even if we did, what could we have done?”

“I never got the chance to tell him that I love him.”

“Trust me, he knows. The Marcel I know is the smartest among us.”

“But aren’t you the smartest?”

“I know tactics, but he knows people.” Pieck remembers the older Galliard brother, flashing his million-dollar smile at Marleyan generals to get the rest of them breaks and other perks. Marcel would take the time to listen to her rant about asymmetric costs and misplaced military budgeting, even chiming in with a few ideas of his own when most of the cadets had wandered off by the thirty-second mark. The young boy was already a reliable all-rounder, a trusted friend to all - naturally destined to become a leader. “He had always been the most human out of all of us.”

“What do you mean?” She feels Porco reciprocating her touch, now softly clasping onto her.

“Back when we were training, I never cared about anyone else. I needed that damn armband, and I was willing to step over anyone who was coming in my way, even you. I’m certain that most of us were like that.” Porco thinks for a little, and gives Pieck a brief nod.

“But Marcel wasn’t like that. He’d stay behind training to help the others, heck, I wouldn’t have made it past the first round if he didn’t correct my combat stance. Marcel cared about connecting with people; he never saw the other cadets as competitors, to him they were just teammates. Do you remember Annie’s 9th birthday?”

The smallest hint of a smile tugged onto Porco’s lips. “The idiot stood on the lunch table and made us sing ‘Happy Birthday’ out of nowhere, before Magath-“

“IF I EVER HEAR YOUR GODAWFUL VOICE AGAIN MARCEL GALLIARD,” Pieck yells in a mock-manly voice, “I’M GOING TO PERSONALLY MAKE SURE YOU GET KICKED OUT OF THE PROGRAMME!” They chuckle.

“And that pet grasshopper Lenny! I still don’t know when he caught it.”

“Remember how devastated he got when Annie decided to crush the poor thing in less than an hour?”

“Classic Annie.”

Pieck notices that she isn’t shivering anymore. “None of us even knew it was her birthday, but he cared.” A beat, Porco drew a sharp breath.

“Marcel would stay up late to study with me; most of the time he’d already finished his work, but he would pretend that he hadn’t. Sometimes, he would secretly take me to the cliffside to watch the moon, even when it was way past our curfew. We would toss pebbles into the ocean and scream at the sky- I’m not sure how the guards didn’t hear. Gosh-" His eyes are glassy, so much so that she could see her own reflection in them.

“Marcel made sure that he was more than the military. He was only twelve, and he was more alive than I think I can ever be.” Pieck was slightly taken aback by the honesty of her words.

A darkness falls over Porco’s face. “He could have been so much more.”

“That I cannot deny, but I think Marcel would want to be remembered for his strength and spirit. He’d want us, and most of all you, to learn from him. Be a big brother to the new cadets. Don’t fuss over the Armoured anymore, and find your own path.” Porco is stupored by Pieck’s words, caught in a trance that is only broken moments later, when she leans forward to let their foreheads touch. He seeks comfort in her gentle breathing, letting her take his breath away.

“Can I hold you?”

“Yes, but you’ll have to let me put some ointment on your arm.”

“Okay.”

“And you’ll promise me to never, ever hurt yourself again.” He looks down at his forearm; the marks were effective while it lasted, a few dots a day for the past week and a bit - in punishing himself, to make him feel at least _something_ amid this madness. But perhaps there are other things to look forward to, instead of diving head-first into complete self-destruction.

Pieck feels her throat tighten. “It hurts me too, Pokko… You mean too much to me.”

In admitting to this, she knows that she has fallen.

“Okay.”

Pieck snatches the little jar of ointment, and crawls over to the headboard where Porco is already holding his arm out to her. She leans into his chest, allowing his legs to tangle around hers and his other arm to loop over her shoulder.

“It might sting a little. Try focusing on something else.”

Porco watches her remove the lid and dip her fingers into the substance. He watches her dabble the ointment onto his marks with complete concentration, her lips pursed and brows knitted together - the same look she makes when passionately scribbling down wild ideas onto her mini notepad. He watches the golden sunlight pour into his bedroom and bounce off her face, illuminating her every feature and making his heart skip a little faster. Suddenly his pain for his brother feels somewhat distant; still present, but mitigable. Permanent, but bearable. He is holding the sun herself in his arms - her brightness, her passion, sometimes a little intense but always a presence in the sky that quells his nerves and brims with new possibilities everyday.

And in that moment, in seeing her, he knows that he has fallen.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Right, we’re back! Thank you so much for the lovely responses, it honestly made me grin like an idiot throughout the rest of yesterday. But I still get really nervous posting these hehe ~  
> \- Tags are updated :)
> 
> **Today’s song:** [A 1000 Times (Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9FILAkKinQ)  
> 

**2:00 pm**

“Hi Sonoya!” The new receptionist at the military headquarters looked up and greeted Pieck with a polite smile. Pieck is leaning over the counter, nervously drumming her fingers on the glass pane.

“Um, I’ve got a bit of a weird request. Have you ever heard of the ‘Warrior’s Last Meal’ programme-thingy? I-It’s a bit of a myth, so I’m not sure if it even exists.”

“I haven’t, but I can ask around for you.”

“Thank you! And, um, if it _is_ a thing, can I ask for a box of cacao powder? Like the really nice ones with the red packaging, topped with a golden pull bow. Think it says ‘70% Cocoa’ on the label?”

“Wait, don’t tell me you’ve never had those before?” Pieck points at her red armband, giving Sonya a cheeky grin.

“They don’t sell those around here.”

“Ah, fair. Sure, I’ll pass the word along. And if it _is_ a thing, I’ll get it delivered to your home address this evening.”

“Thank you Sonoya! And, um, good luck for the rest of your life...?” Pieck wanted to smack herself in the face. “Okay that sounded a lot better in my head, but you get what I mean...”

Sonya lets out a short laugh, a kind one that nevertheless made Pieck feel even more embarrassed. “No worries, and have a good rest of your day.”

Pieck spins on her heels and finds Udo standing behind her, holding his stomach in a stifled laughter. “Yes, I absolutely heard that.”

The fifteen year-old boy, selected to be the next holder of the Cart Titan, shot up to an astonishing 5’10” in the last five months. Pieck still remembers holding Udo and Zofia’s hands, letting them drag her from stall to stall in the Liberio Festival. Udo, then twelve, wanted a stuffed teddy bear from the cross bow shoot counter, but Pieck was never that good of a marksman herself. They were really running low on money when Porco sauntered over, grabbed the crossbow from Pieck’s hands mid-aim, and hit four consecutive bullseyes, securing the Warrior cadets one teddy each.

_“Why didn’t you just show up earlier?” The kids are running ahead, busy naming each others’ teddies that they plan to introduce to Zeke and Reiner later that day. “I wasted way too much money on this.”_

_“At least I did show up, right?” Porco gives Pieck a gentle nudge. “You want one?”_

_“Nah, these games are total rip-offs.”_

_“It’ll be my treat. As friends, of course. I’ll get it in one go anyways.” She looks up, seeing the faint smirk playing on his lips. “Getting cocky, are you?”_

_“So you like the pink or the blue?”_

_“Hm… Let’s go for the yellow.”_

_Don’t think._

“You ready?” The colour drains from the young boy’s face. Pieck’s past and present Panzer Units are hosting a farewell party at the pub, and she thought it would be a good opportunity to properly introduce them to Udo, to make sure they will accept him as their next commander. Udo had been incredibly reluctant, as he is about most things social, but his mentor remained persistent.

“Don’t worry Udo! I’m sure they’ll love you!”

“But I’m not you, and it’s not guaranteed that they’d even see me as human.”

“Hey, since it’s my last day, I’ll let you into a little secret.” He leans a bit closer. “You’re one of the cleverest kids I’ve ever met, so don’t ever second guess yourself.” A faint blush spreads across Udo’s cheeks as he mutters a shy “thank you!”

**2:50 pm**

There are good people, there are bad people, and then there are people who never got to choose what type of person they would become. Pieck remembers getting out of the Cart after her first extended transformation, before the military issued her a personalised set of crutches. Her legs felt like jelly, deprived of strength and structure, leaving her no choice but to crawl on all fours for what felt like weeks. Her hands and feet were permanently glued to the floor, skirt collecting dust particles and hairballs as she made her way through the military headquarters, receiving judgmental stares from the higher-ups; it would have been worse if Porco didn’t insist on carrying her on his back for the rest of her recovery. Pieck felt like a monster, even more so than in her titan form; this frightening realisation was intensified by comfortable she felt on all fours, secretly preferring it to walking upright. Eventually, Pieck came to understand that part of being a shifter was getting used to the fact that she would never fully be human again. Gone is her ability to take long walks, even when she didn’t need her crutches, or her freedom to meet new friends and envision a future past the age of twenty-three. Instead, Pieck would have recurring dreams starring the thousands of lives she played a role in destroying, the families she had torn apart. She would see a sea of animated corpses rushing towards her, screaming and clawing onto her body. But she would lie still, letting them to gnaw onto her flesh and tear off her limbs. Her guilt is a festering wound that she never found the strength to treat, because a larger part of her believes that it is completely deserved. She’d wake up the next morning, wash her face and continue as normal, then go back to bed every night half-fearing but half-hoping that the nightmares will return.

But one redeeming facet of being a titan shifter, privy to the Cart, is the close bond Pieck had formed with her Panzer Units. Throughout the years, they grew to respect her willingness to listen to their suggestions, as well as her ability to hold her own in strategic discussions, even up against the War Chief - a revered but feared figure in the military. Pieck vividly remembers being overcome with emotions when she spotted a small crowd of Panzer Unit soldiers lining up to attend her father’s funeral. The ceremony was held in a parish in the intermittent zone - an area most Marleyans wouldn’t even touch with a ten-foot pole; these are the very same men who organised today’s gathering.

Pieck accepts their bouquet of flowers with a smile. “You guys really didn’t have to do this. Thank you.”

Tobias, a retired member of Pieck’s second Panzer Unit with a missing eye, raises his glass. The rest of the group follow suit, quickly downing their drinks to call for a third round. Pieck takes a small sip of her beer, mostly out of politeness - she was never a big fan of the taste of alcohol, but would rarely turn down a night out with the team; it’s the hazy conversations, the late-night kebabs, the serene walks back home in the silence of night that she enjoyed the most. She watches Colson throw a single grape at Udo from across the table, who successfully catches it in his mouth. The group erupts into cheers as a confident grin forms on the Warrior cadet’s face.

“Miss Pieck?” Pieck feels a light tap on her shoulder; she turns to find Carlo, awkwardly pushing his glasses up his nose. Carlo is long-rumoured to have the biggest crush on Pieck - a hearsay that she never dared to address in fear of tearing her current Panzer Unit apart. “Yes?”

“Miss Pieck… Are things alright between you and Galliard?” Pieck didn’t expect a question like this to jump at her, at this particular moment; she finds herself uncharacteristically at a loss of words.

“I’m not sure what to say, Carlo.”

“Ah! I’m so sorry, Miss Pieck! Please don’t be mad at me! I’ll leave now if you want!”

“N-no, stay! It’s fine. It’s honestly fine. But why did you ask?” A momentary pause, as the soldier looks down and nervously fidgets with his fingers.

“Gah! Fine. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Galliard wanted me to check in with you.” Her heart does a little backflip.

“Did he?”

“I told him that I didn’t want to, but the man can be _very_ persistent when he wants to be.”

“That’s alright. If you see him, tell him I’m fine, and I’ll see him tomorrow.” Carlo gives Pieck a quick nod before returning to Udo’s side, where the rest of his team is now gathered.

_Oh Pokko._

*******

“Porc-"

“Galliard.” He sits across her, arms crossed, jaw stiffened.

“Galliard. An ambush doesn’t work like that. I’m not going in without surveying the area.” Porco cocks his head challengingly; he catches the other Warriors looking away, feeling as if they have intruded on a private conversation instead of the normal strategic planning session.

Everyone knew about the breakup, of a relationship that shouldn’t have existed in the first place. They didn’t know exactly what happened, but judging by Porco’s recent moodiness - barking insults at his comrades more than usual (Reiner taking the most hits) and going at great lengths to avoid Pieck - it was probably a one-sided one. Porco will throw a fit if you tell him this, but everyone could read him like an open book.

“Get the Panzer Unit to do it! Or, I don’t know, transform when you actually have to?”

Pieck shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “You know for a fact that I can’t; it takes at least seven minutes to get the machine gun platform up on the Cart. You can, but I can’t.”

Porco rolls his eyes at her insistence on numerical precision, already scrambling his brain for rebuttals. Frankly he doesn’t care if she is right, he simply refuses to back down.

“And I need to know which forts and stations I should target; this affects which route I take, which in turns determines where Reiner should transform. Don’t you think it’s more logical if I let Reiner know in advance, instead of making his whole battalion wait and guess?” Reiner lowers himself in his chair, not wanting to get dragged into this.

“Well it isn’t like you to explain things anyways. All you do is shut people down.”

Pieck tightens her clenched fist; this is a stupid conversation that the others shouldn’t be hearing. “You can act with reckless abandon all you want, but I’ll always have at least five lives on my back.” Porco raises a brow, now muttering under his breath, “Didn’t think you’d have the heart to-"

“That’s enough you two.” The obvious annoyance in the War Chief’s voice causes Pieck’s face to redden in embarrassment, her hands dropping into her lap. She hears the unpleasant sound of mahogany scraping against the tiled floor, and watches Porco shoot up from his chair out of the corner of her eyes. “Pokko-“

“JUST- Give me five minutes!” The door bounces off the back wall and shuts with a slam. Pieck plants her feet on the ground, restraining the urge to just get up and chase after him.

One minute. Two minutes. Zeke continues to brief them on the division of supplies, but Pieck doesn’t take in a single word.

By the time the War Chief notices, she is already at the door.

**6:30 pm**

Pieck makes a left turn, flowers in hand, now about a minute away from home when she hears “Pieck!”

She turns to see Reiner coming to a stop, palms pressed onto his knees and catching his breath. Pieck is quite surprised to see him here, though the Brauns do only live a couple of blocks away. “Hi!”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m alright. You?”

Reiner pushes himself back up, now towering over Pieck. “Gabi’s screaming is strong enough of a distraction to keep me from thinking too much.” Pieck chuckles. The one thing they didn’t expect was for Gabi to turn into an emotional wreck. It was announced earlier that she would inherit the Armoured Titan, but as the days got closer, Gabi would burst into tears and even throw up in the middle of training. Turns out the poor girl, so determined in her quest to bring honour to Marley, could not stomach the thought of devouring her cousin whom she so idolised. Eventually Falco volunteered to take her place, so she would wait for Porco’s Jaw. Pieck thought this was a better arrangement anyways; the young girl is quick-witted, a skilled fighter, aggressive - well sometimes a little too aggressive; she very much reminded Pieck of a younger Porco.

No.

_Don’t think._

“I was wondering if you would like to come over for dinner tonight? My family cooked up a feast big enough to feed half of Liberio.”

Maybe it’d be nice to talk to someone, to keep her mind off tomorrow. But knowing how the Brauns are, Pieck didn’t feel like spending her last hours hearing about the devils of Paradis. And that box of cacao powder is probably sitting on her front porch, waiting for her at this very moment. Well she’s not certain, but one can always hope.

“Thank you Reiner, but I’ll give it a pass. Got a few more pages of notes to write for Udo before the ceremony.” That is true as well.

“Sure. Um, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Pieck nods, but they continue to stand still. Feet grounded on the pavement, the cool breeze of the night rushing through their hair. Pieck never knew Reiner that well, but enough to notice that he’s been barely holding on ever since returning from Paradis the second time. The enthusiastic, self-righteous Warrior cadet she once found irritating became quiet, reclusive, forever preferring to keep to himself. He would contribute in strategic plannings and lead them into battle, but it never felt like he was truly there. Pieck would sometimes look at Reiner from across the room, only to find his eyes permanently concealed by a veil of dullness.

Without properly processing what she’s about to do, Pieck feels herself rushing forward to wrap her arms around Reiner. The vice-captain flinches, surprised by his fellow comrade’s sudden display of compassion, before reaching out to reciprocate her warm embrace. They stand there for a few moments, just breathing together and letting time pass.

“I know it’s been hard for you…” She’s not sure where this is going, “...Thanks for staying in there. It’ll all be alright.”

Eventually, they untangle from one another.

“Thank you Pieck.” Reiner takes a deep breath. His eyes are glassy, but somehow the most peaceful she has ever seen them.

“Right. Gabi. Better go back before she rips the house apart. Will you be alright on your-" Reiner quickly stops himself, mentally groaning at his own stupidity.

Pieck gives him a gentle smile, but she just cannot bring herself to say goodbye.

**9:17 pm**

Pieck drops her pencil and slumps to the ground, the last diagram in her notes to Udo finally completed - a visual guide on how to adjust the Cart’s movements when balancing the Panzer Unit on its back. As per usual, she ended up writing much more than is expected, but it’s not like she has anything to do before tomorrow anyways.

Tomorrow. Now not days but just hours away. Now countable by minutes and seconds, rapidly slipping through her grasp. Pieck wonders what went through Zeke’s mind before he transferred the Beast to Colt exactly one year ago; he did invite her and Porco out for burgers just for old time’s sake, to relive their earlier days when life felt so much simpler, because they were all too young to understand anything of consequence.

Pieck immediately pushes herself up and starts gathering the loose sheets of paper scattered all over the living room. _Don’t think._

What to do, what to do? Bake cookies? The kids are definitely going to miss her snickerdoodles. Tidy the house a little? She’s not sure who’s going to inherit it next, but it’ll be nice to make them feel somewhat welcomed. Pieck had already given away her most prized possessions, including a velvet hair ribbon to Gabi, a hilariously disproportionate Cart Titan plushie to Udo, and her little book of jokes to Porco. Throughout the years, Pieck kept a list of fun anecdotes and clever comebacks that she is almost embarrassed to be so proud of. Most of them were left unused, so she thought Porco might be able to breathe life into them someday.

_“No reading before I’m gone.”_

_“Pieck, don’t-“_

_“I’m dead serious Pokko. From friend to friend.” She places the leather-bound notebook firmly on his lap._

_Porco looks up at her, his face nauseously pale. Pieck finds herself reaching down to tuck a stray hair behind his ear, then swiping her hand across his jawline to gently caress his cheek. She feels him shift ever so slightly, to press his lips onto her fingertips, their touch lingering, her eyes stinging-_

_“I’m so sorry.”_

_She immediately draws back her hand and walks away before she could see his response._

Pieck leans across the kitchen counter and takes a sip of her hot chocolate. The precious box of cocoa powder was indeed sitting outside her front porch when she returned, but attached to it was a note: **“The ‘programme’ is a joke to mess with you kids, but here you go kiddo. - Magath”** ****

_“So, who’s Magath’s favourite now? Pieck or Zeke?” Bertholdt asks, swirling one finger around a pile of leaves gathered underneath the maple tree._

_“What about me?” Porco asks as he chomps into a crispy green apple, then passes it over to Pieck for a bite. The four of them are lounging lazily in the grass, admiring the late sunset._

_“You aren’t even part of the question.” Reiner snatches the apple mid-pass, then proceeds to demolish the poor fruit. Pieck sees the look of pure horror on Porco’s face and couldn’t hold back a giggle._

_“It was always between the Golden Boy and the Strategy Protégé, right Bert?” Pieck rolls her eyes at her childhood nickname, given to her by none other than the Golden Boy himself._

_“Sorry Galliard.” Porco kicks the pile of leaves with his closest leg and sends them flying into Bertholdt’s face._

_“Pokko!” Porco’s face goes red. He tilts Pieck’s chin up and whispers into her ear, “How many times have I told you not to call me that in front of other people!” Pieck couldn’t let this perfect opportunity slip, optimising their close proximity to tap the tip of Porco’s nose with one finger. “Boop.”_

_“PDA BYE.” Reiner feigns getting up and throws the apple core at Porco, hitting him in the head. “That’s for Bert!”_

_Pieck clears her throat with a tiny ‘ahem’. “It’s Zeke, for sure. How often do you get a Beast that can turn Eldians into titans?”_

_“I’d say it’s you. I think Magath’s a bit intimidated by how powerful Zeke is. And you’re the only one he said ‘Happy New Year’ to, for the past three years.” Porco turns to the boys. “He even gave her a piece of mint three weeks ago!” Pieck watches Reiner’s eyes widen in shock, as Bertholdt’s jaw drops; the latter still has a stray leaf tucked comfortably into his brown floppy hair._

_“I don’t see what’s so special about-"_

_All three boys cry out in unison, “IT’S MAGATH!”_

_Don’t think._ Focus on the drink.

Ha. Nice try.

_“I thought you wanted hot chocolate as well?”_

_Porco places his tray on the table and takes a seat across her. She’s still not used to looking up at him since he grew six inches taller in the last two months._

_“Nah, I changed my mind. Black coffee’s actually quite nice.”_

_“Liar!” Pieck snatches a biscuit from the plate of treats, breaks it into two, pops half into her mouth and throws the other at Porco._

_“Hey! What was that for?”_

_“For LYING! I know you hate coffee!”_

_“What, I-“_

_“Three weeks ago. Zeke passed some around before the meeting. You downed it and nearly choked.”_

_“Was I that obvious?”_

_“You looked like a grape for the rest of the day!”_

_“Ugh, fine! I didn’t have enough money to buy myself a hot chocolate!” Pieck looks down at hers; it even has whipped cream and sprinkles, which probably costed him an extra few cents. Now she feels really bad for throwing biscuits at the blushing boy._

_“Here!” She grabs two waffle rolls from the plate, sticks them into the hot chocolate and pushes it over to Porco. “Straws! Now we can share!” Porco couldn’t resist the smile creeping onto his face. They both lean forward at the same time, causing their noses to bump into one another._

_Great, now she’s blushing too._

He is the one thing she could never forgive herself for, for selfishly leading him on when she knew he’d have to let her go. Granted Pieck didn’t think he would become a shifter during her lifetime, but she wanted him to have a chance at real love - not the botched copy of it that she could barely give. He still has seven years - plenty of time to find a beautiful Marleyan wife, settle down and have children of their own; oh Pieck can already picture their adorable button noses and combed-back hair (Porco certainly would not have it any other way), running around the fields like little hedgehogs. She catches herself smiling, a genuine one untouched by solace or sorrow, the first in many moons. Pieck has long come to terms with the fact that she could never bear children; she is afterall just a property of the military, and considering the limitations of her tenure, ten months of inaction would be considered an unacceptable waste of resources. Her contract explicitly states that pregnancy among shifters will lead to an immediate abortion, and of course a 10-year-old Pieck didn’t think much of this when she put her pen on the paper. She’s a five foot girl in a man’s world; they champion her as the model _modern working woman_ , but never considered her changing needs and desires as a woman.

_“I think you’d be a great mother.” It’s one of those oddball conversation topics that Porco plucked out of thin-air, for no particular reason. The two of them are leaning over the balcony rail, watching the Warrior cadets train in hand-to-hand combat under the scorching afternoon sun._

_“What makes you think so?”_

_“You’re great with the cadets, and I bet you’ll make geniuses out of your kids.” Her chest drops, feeling a million times heavier than it did mere seconds ago. She turns around to avoid looking at the young cadets._

_“Maybe. But I guess we’ll never find out.” Porco looks over to see her staring at the blank wall behind him, eyes vacant._

_“Pieck? Hey, no- That was a stupid of me.” He pulls her into his arms, chin resting on top of her head. “I’m sorry.”_

_She buries her face in his chest, suddenly too tired to face the world._

_Just let it all out._

_But there were no tears, just plain defeat and acceptance._

Stop invading my brain, Pokko!

This is why she needed to stop herself from seeing him before tomorrow, when the formalities of the inheritance ceremony leaves them no choice but to face each other. She wants to get through it quick and easy, no more pain or regrets. Pieck would be lying if she said she didn’t feel terribly lonely right now, but if loneliness meant not hurting anyone around you anymore, she is more than willing to adjust herself to the silence.

Just a little more than 12 hours; no 5 a.m. morning calls, no responsibilities, strangely a whole lot of time and freedom. Ironically the most she’s ever had, right before it’s all pulled from under her feet. Pieck always wondered what will happen after life itself; all she wants is to see her Pa and Ma again, and spend a few more years together as a family in a replica of their house in Liberio. To give them her undivided time and attention, now that she’s free from her military duties. Pieck will now be around the same age as her Ma when she passed; do people age in the afterlife? _Is there even an afterlife?_  
She snickers, _guess I’ll find out very soon._

_Don’t feel._

_Don’t think._

_I would have wanted it to be with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Just to clarify, Porco and Pieck dated for a while, broke up after the Return to Shiganshina arc, fought for a bit then pretty much went back to being inseparable friends. They never got back together.  
> \- I’m always happy to hear what you guys think, or any form of constructive feedback! Today’s section is a bit long; tomorrow’s will be much shorter, but it’s definitely one of my favourites ;) See you then!


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Hiya! Bit nervous about this one, it’s quite different from anything I’ve ever written
> 
> **Today’s song:**[As the World Caves In (Matt Maltese)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8zmds9aZiE)

**9:46 pm**

Pieck hears a frantic knocking at her door, the noise waking her up from an unplanned nap. Sighing, she gets off the sofa, smoothes down her crinkled nightgown, a silky slip-on dress with a matching baby blue robe, and trudges sleepily to the front door.

Pieck opens the door and can barely make out a hunter green bomber jacket in the dark of night.

“Pokko, I told you not to-“

“I tried. I can’t.”

“Pokko.”

He staggers up the door steps and into the light. Pieck is shocked to see his face so pale, eyes bloodshot, with odd strands of his hair falling out from the sides - the same Warrior who once forgot to bring his service pistol and charged into no man’s land with only a comb in his pocket (Porco insisted he could stab the enemy’s eyes out with its bristles if needed be). But he keeps his distance at the door.

“I need to know why before you go.”

“What?”

“You know how I feel about you.”

“Pokko, it’s for the best we-"

“IT’S NOT.” Porco’s sudden outburst startles Pieck a little. She takes a small step towards him as he takes a step back, standing his ground.

“I’m sorry for being selfish but I need answers. And then I’ll go. Please.” The desperation in his eyes instantly pierces through her heart, reminding her of just how much she misses him. Suddenly time felt much more apparent to Pieck, now a ticking time bomb to exactly when she will loose him forever.

“No, _I’m_ sorry. Please come in.” She steps aside and he softens, just a little.

**10:00 pm**

Pieck slides the mug across the counter to Porco, hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and a light dusting of cocoa powder, just the way he likes. Unlike her, he’s not a big fan of sprinkles.

_“It tastes like sugary nothingness.”_

_“That’s the whole point! You’re just boring.”_

Porco hasn’t spoken a word since entering the house, his arms crossed on the counter top, fingers clutching onto the sleeves of his jacket. Pieck takes her seat across the island from him, her hands absorbing the warmth of her own mug.

“I’m ready for your interrogation.” She scoffs, but he doesn’t. “Fine, I promise to be completely serious from now on. And honest.”

“How are you?” Pieck is surprised by the shakiness of Porco’s voice, and the question itself. He looks up to steal a glance at her, meets her eyes, and immediately ducks his head to avoid her gaze.

“I’m not sure really.” This time she answers honestly.

“I haven’t seen you in four days.”

“I know.”

“I miss you.”

“Please don’t.” This came out more like a broken whisper, devoid of any harshness.

“Why didn’t you want to see me?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“We’ve still got time.” A beat, her thoughts and feelings scattered like sheets of paper on the floor.

“…I guess I don’t want either of us to hang onto anything.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, or feel sad about any of this. I want you to move on as soon as possible and find even more happiness after tomorrow.”

“Do you know that by ignoring me, you’re just making me feel worse? All these questions I have in my head would have never been answered if I didn’t insist on coming over. I’ll just keep thinking and thinking, over and over again.”

“I’m sorry, that was never my intention.”

Pieck watches the mountain of whipped cream sitting on top of Porco’s mug slowly start to disintegrate, but he maintains the same stiffness, entirely ignoring the drink.

She tightens her grip on the mug. “I-I care about you. A lot. Honestly. And a lot of the times I don’t even know what to do about it. I guess this is my last-ditch attempt to make you hate me, so it’d be easier for you to move forwards...” Porco cocks his head, perplexed by her words. “...I always feel like I have no choice but to hurt you, and I just feel really guilty about that.”

"It’s not your fault, you didn’t choose for your life to be this way.”

“But I chose to drag you into my mess - my short and stupid life that was never going to go anywhere.” Pieck’s face is burning, that anger and self-resentment she has learned to bury under the guise of tranquility frantically clawing its way to the surface.

“I never minded. I still don’t.”

She chews on her lower lip, those long-suppressed tears now threatening to spill. But no; _you’re going to suck it up for Pokko’s sake._

“Tell me about Paradis.” Pieck is taken aback by his question. The details of the mission are classified information that only the three participating Warriors and top generals have access to - it was an embarrassing failure on their part. Porco’s eyes are now locked on hers, willing her to speak.

“What about Paradis?”

“You came back and broke things off with me a few days later. Why?”

“I needed to stay emotionally detached.”

“But we still did _things_ ,” A hint of anger flashes across Porco’s face. “As friends, I know, but we did _it_. More than once.”

“I’m aware that I didn’t exactly stick to my word, but I’ve never regretted letting you be my first.” Pieck reaches out to hold his hands in hers, already reminiscing the warmth of his touch. And Porco doesn’t resist, his grip on the sleeves finally loosening.

“Please. I want us to come to an understanding… At least for me, if you’re okay with that.” Her memories are burning, blistering, but she answers “Okay.”

Pieck takes a long, deep breath, her heart pounding against her chest.

“Paradis was my longest mission at the time. A little more than a month, to retrieve the Founder and close off Paradis for good. Zeke and I thought it was going to be easy - a few rocks, get Bertholdt to knock down another wall, quick and easy then go. We should have known that something would go wrong by how anxious Reiner got, but it had been victory after victory for Zeke and me, so it kind of got into our heads - heck, we even talked about popping a few bottles on the way back. That day… I nearly came back on my own.” Pieck’s voice begins to tremor. “I saw with my own eyes, Zeke torn out of his titan, a blade shoved down his throat. Reiner skinless, dismembered, most of his face blown to bits; it’s a miracle that he even survived. And then there was Bertholdt.” She stops, letting a moment pass to find the proper words. “Completely unconscious, helpless, with a blade pressed into his throat, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I never told the boys that I heard his last words when I was running away - they were passed out by then, and it’d be too much for Reiner. But I-I’ll never get those screams out of my head, and the crunch that made it all stop.” She’s breathing heavily now, chest heaving, vision turning blurry. “Bertholdt he- He was only sixteen! He still had so much he wanted to do... He made me promise that if I could only save one person I’d choose Reiner and I agreed thinking it wouldn’t happen, but _of course_ it did and I should’ve... I-I should have insisted and try to get him anyways, I-“ Porco’s hands are now cupping Pieck’s, his thumbs rubbing small circles on her knuckles. Pieck didn’t even notice that she is trembling like a leaf. Vulnerable, utterly pathetic.

“We don’t have to-"

“No. I owe it to you. I should have explained a long time ago. Before I left the Walls, I took one last look at the battlefield and its dawned on me that all my life I have been surrounded by death; two bodies on my back, two hundred on the floor - those all bloodied and lifeless. At that moment, I finally understood that the possibility of suddenly loosing someone you care about is completely real. And it could have easily been me - gone in the blink of an eye, no dramatic last words, no sentimental goodbyes. I felt that shock and pain first-hand on Paradis, and I couldn’t bear knowing that I could make other people feel the same way about me. I just can't live with that... It came to me that a permanent loss would feel more palpable that a preemptive heartbreak, so I decided that the most sensible thing to do was to bring whatever we had to an end.”

The sea of words rushing out of Pieck finally came to a stop. She holds her breath, waiting for Porco’s response, but he is struggling to wrap his mind around everything she just said.

The next minute feels more like an hour, stretching and slowly unravelling between them.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I knew you’d try to stop me. I saw what loosing Marcel did to you, and I knew I couldn’t put you through the same situation. And this time, I won’t be here to catch you.”

“Then did your feelings for me ever fade?”

The answer is obvious to Pieck, but she is terrified of the consequences. The words are tiptoeing over the edge, desperate to escape from her mouth and stomp all over her good conscience. She purses her lips, physically holding back the words, but it comes to her that it’s now or never. Now is painful, but never would be-

“No. I tried. I can’t.” In admitting to this, Pieck feels a heavy weight lifted off her chest; but now that its completely open and exposed, she’s scared of what might come next. She feels tears finally rolling down her cheeks, the ones she’s been holding back for weeks. “I wanted you to move on so badly, but I also dreaded the day I would have to hear about it.” A tiny hiccup. “But I will gladly eat my feelings up over and over again if it means giving you a real chance at love.” She closes her eyes, this is all too much.

“But I love you.” It came out a lot uglier than when Porco rehearsed it in his head for the past five years, like a crumpled ball of tissue paper covered in snot and tears.

“Pokko-"

“Listen to me.” His hands tighten around hers. “None of this is your fault. I’ve always known the consequences, especially after Marcel, but I fell for you anyways.”

“...Why?”

“You’re smart enough to know that feelings are difficult to pinpoint… _You fucking saved my life, Pieck._ You make me feel so happy, and that feels right. It’s that simple, really.”

Simplicity, a word that did not belong to the life of a Warrior. An alien sensation that somehow the boy sitting in front of her is able to so casually embody. His direct manner of speech, unfiltered but completely truthful, the natural swagger in his gait, his sincere gestures of affection - a breath of fresh air amidst her murky reality. Yes, he knows pain and has confronted darkness face-to-face, but his feelings for her has always been plain and simple, like the rarest, clearest of crystals extracted from the deepest mines.

All the pondering and overcomplicating inside her head, of denying her own feelings because of her instinct to protect. Of punishing herself, and inadvertently dragging him along.

Why realise now? _Why not earlier?_

“ _I’m so sorry-_ "

“Shhh… Shhh…” Porco leans forwards and places his lips on her fingertips, moving from finger to finger, each kiss light and delicate like feathers. She feels his warm tears trickling down the back of her hand, her breath now spastically breaking into violent sobs.

“Pokko, is too late for me to say it back?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Our lovely Pork Boi finally makes an appearance!  
> \- Oof, this was difficult, but here you go! As always, please feel free to let me know what you think! See you tomorrow~ (hint: fluffy fluff fluff fluff)


	4. Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I’m back! Yesterday I spent some time studying AO3 to figure out how to re-format the previous chapters; I hope it’s now more user-friendly!  
> \- Tags are updated ;) Let's go!
> 
>  **Today’s song:** [Let's Fall in Love for the Night (1964 Version, FINNEAS)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Orz6OkeOWRI)

**11:12 pm**

Porco made Pieck agree on two things. First, they are going to ignore tomorrow for now. And second, they are going to stay awake the entire night, to milk out every millisecond they have left together.

“Can you pass me some eggs? They’re in the fridge.” Porco’s arms are wrapped tightly around Pieck’s waist; his continues nuzzling into her neck, purposefully ignoring her request. She leans back, letting his hands slip underneath her nightgown and slowly travel up-

“Come on Pokko, you said you wanted snickerdoodles. I’ve been mixing dry flour and sugar for the past five minutes.”

“Fuck the cookies.”

She turns around and gently pushes him away. “Go. Now. I also need some butter and cinnamon. Oh and vanilla extract, it’s probably somewhere in the top shelf.”

Porco sighs and gives in to her orders, grabbing the now-not-so-hot chocolate for a quick swig as he approaches the fridge.

“I know from experience that you won’t stop after you start.” Porco freezes and nearly spits all the hot chocolate back into his mug.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Pieck is now crouching down to pre-heat the oven, facing away from Porco. “You know exactly what I mean.” He can't identify a hint of playfulness or seriousness in her voice; just a nonchalant statement that made Porco’s head spin around in circles. “And besides you, I promised Magath cookies. If I fail to deliver and he finds out that _you_ were distracting me, then we’re both getting in trouble.”

“Magath? Of all people? Huh, never thought the old man would have a sweet tooth.” Porco places his mug on top of the fridge and opens the door. “WHOA!” He didn’t expect to be greeted with rows of eggs, and a whole bottom shelf stacked with sticks of unsalted butter. “Why do you have so many ingredients?”

“I was planning on baking anyways.”

“What, for the whole military?”

“Might as well. We’ve got the whole night.” Porco begins to empty out the contents of the fridge, piling the ingredients into his arms and transporting them to the kitchen counter.

“Aren’t they going to expire?”

Pieck starts to sharpen her knives. “Well mine is much closer than theirs.”

“Pieck.” The ingredients land on the counter with a loud _thump_.

“Sorry. You know how I cope with things.” She glances over and finds Porco taking a deep breath, his shoulders tensed. Both of their eyes are now red and puffy from all the crying; they look utterly ridiculous, but at least they look ridiculous together. “No more until you want to talk about it, okay?”

Porco takes his time making his way over, until he is standing right in front of Pieck, head tilted downwards to meet her nose-to-nose. Pieck drops the knives onto the chopping board behind her, now holding her breath.

“Then I guess I’ll have to make sure you keep your mouth shut.” He closes the space between them.

**1:04 am**

“Gosh these are _out of this world_ when they’re fresh. I didn’t think they’d get even better.” Porco’s mouth is half-stuffed with a snickerdoodle, one of the hundreds now sitting on the cooling racks, ready to be transferred into individual gift packets.

“Now try dipping them into this.” Pieck hands Porco her hot chocolate, yes her fourth cup tonight, and he dunks the remaining piece in, then gulps all the content in one go. “HOT. HOT.”

Pieck giggles as she bites into a new cookie, her head fitted into the crook of Porco’s neck. Both of them are sitting on the floor underneath a big fluffy blanket, with their backs against the front rail of the linen sofa. Pieck sneaks a peek at the boy to her right; she observes the dips and contours of his face, his high cheekbones, the gentle beating of his lashes - every part of him is a new reminder of why she isn’t ready to let go.

“Hey.” Pieck lifts her fingers to tilt Porco’s head towards her. “I think you’ve got some- ah never mind this is too cheesy.” She drops her hand.

“No, go on.”

“Nooooooo-"

“Come on, what’s on my lips?”

“No I was thinking-" Pieck moves in and licks the slight dusting of cinnamon sugar off the tip of Porco’s nose. His eyes widened in surprise. “Is that a new way of booping me?”

“Maybe... But it’s mainly me being a neat freak; I hate it when sugar melts and it gets all sticky.”

“But you’ve got some on you as well.”

“Where- wait are you seriously using the same trick on-" Porco's tongue grazes the surface of Pieck’s lips, then dips into her mouth, savouring the sensation of their contact. The heat rose in Pieck's cheeks as she feels the softness of his lips; her hands fly up to stroke his face as he melts into her touch. 

“Best cookies in Marley?” She mumbles into his lips, following his guidance as they move together as one. He fastens his arms around her waist, lifting her up and moving her onto his lap. Her fingers find their way to the back of his head, combing through his already-dishevelled hair and pressing him even closer to her.

“Best cookies in the universe.” 

**1:21 am**

“ _I love you. I love you._ ” He repeats as he pushes into her - her fingers clawing onto his back, heels digging into his tailbone. He holds her face in between his hands, their lips lightly brushing against each other.

“Look at me. I want to see you.”

He opens his eyes, colour like brass melted in lava, still heavy-lidded in complete euphoria. She clenches around him tightly, causing him to moan into her lips.

“Please don’t stop.” “Never. Mine. Finally mine.”

He moves faster, thrusting into her warmth with all his strength, showing her just how much he has always needed her. She draws a sharp breath, inhaling his musky cologne - a scent she has always found herself unconsciously searching for wherever she went, no matter how far away he was from her. “Pokko-”

“Say it again. Say my name.” They’re edging closer and closer, keeping up with each other’s pace,

“ _Pokko-“_

**2:30 am**

They've finished packing the cookies into individual plastic packets, each tied up with a pink ribbon, with a ‘ **thank you! - pieck ( & galliard)**’ note attached to the top. She catches him yawning when is back is turned to her.

“It’s okay if you wanna get some sleep-" He spins around, eyes suddenly wide open. “Nope. A promise is a promise. Since I came up with it, I sure as hell am going to keep it. What do you wanna do next?”

“We can fix the drain pipes in the basement.“

“Is that your idea of fun?!”

Pieck flattens her voice, “Well my idea of fun is you doing me like your life depends on it, but we just did that.” She watches Porco’s face turn beet-red and feels her lips curl into a grin.

“Um, I’m happy to do it again if you want?”

“Nah, I’ve got another idea. Still involves the basement though.” Pieck tugs onto Porco’s sleeve and starts marching towards the staircase.

“You mean doing it in the basement?”

“No, you horndog!”

“You brought it up first!”

**4:49 am**

Porco presses the tip of his brush onto the wall, to cover up a mouldy blotch with purple paint. The two of them are surrounded by buckets of latex paint, courtesy of Mr. Finger who used to work in construction; they even had to keep the cellar door open so the place wouldn’t stink of chemicals.

Pieck had the idea to redecorate the worn down walls of the basement, to cover up the stained, yellowed patches with brand new colours; it’s something she’s been intending to do for years, but has never gotten around completing.

Hours later, the walls are covered in the most peculiar, childish doodles that she and Porco managed to come up with. It is clear that both of them aren't particularly talented artists, heck, Porco can’t even remember the last time he picked up a paintbrush. Their cartoonish drawings are simple, scratchy, outlined by rough, unperfected edges that bled into the other colours because they couldn't bother waiting for the first layer of paint to dry.

He paints an apple, she paints the box of cocoa powder sitting upstairs; he paints her yellow teddy bear, she paints his Jaw (which turned out to look more like a fluffy, bearded baby lion). Porco sneaks his arms over Pieck's shoulders and adds a doodle of her Cart with a duckbill - their brushes meeting and colliding, the reds and blues blending into one.

They splash paint onto one another, enjoying periods of casual chit-chat and moments of comfortable silence. At one point, he drapes his bomber jacket over her shoulders; she happily keeps it on.

_“Do you think we’d meet under any other circumstances?”_

_“Nah, you used to live like an hour away from me. I doubt we’d ever bump into each other.”_

_“So… No regrets?”_

_“Not in a million lifetimes."_

A chilling realisation strikes Pieck as she dips her paintbrush into the soapy water, watching the pigments dissolve and cloud up the rusting tin pot: _I’ll be gone before the paint dries down._

“I’m done.” Pieck glances over and observes Porco’s newest doodle on the top righthand corner of the wall; she sees five humanoid silhouettes - one male, one shorter female, their hands joined with three smaller ones. “What’s that?”

“It’s us, and…” Porco turns to her, his cheeks flushed.

Pieck closes her eyes; she can see them in her head. Chasing each other across the fields. The oldest boy, a little over six, cradling chestnuts in his arms, his sister following his footsteps, a sunflower tucked behind her ear. The youngest child, barely able to walk upright without support, stumbles through the tall grass; he takes in the scents of nature with his adorable button nose. He has his father’s amber eyes, she has her mother’s dark hair.

There’s a voice in the distance, sounding out words Pieck cannot decipher. The children turn to the direction of the voice - their father, a picnic basket in one hand, his wife’s fingers clasping onto the other.

For the first time, Pieck sees herself in this scene. No armbands, no crutches, no titan marks; just calmly soaking in an abundance of life.

But this isn’t her reality.

“I’ve always wanted it too.” Pieck hears the tremors in Porco’s voice, as if he had seen the exact same images play inside his own head, and now feels equally crushed by its simplicity, its beauty, and its utter impossibility. “Marcel, Bertholdt and Oliver.”

“Olivia, if she’s a girl.”

Pieck hears the crowing of a rooster from outside her house, sending shivers up her spine. 

It’s almost time.

Mere seconds later, they crumble into each other’s arms, then onto the wooden floorboards. Crashing down together, shuddering.

“Stay strong, the kids need you… War Chief Pokko, right?”

“War Chief _Galliard._ ”

Porco buries his face in the curve of Pieck’s neck. She laces her fingers through his hair, watching how the faint light from the sunrise, slowly flooding in from the door, turns his dirty blonde into golden. The last sunrise she will ever see, with the one person she just can’t bring herself to let go of.

The morning has never felt so heavy.

_Don’t think._

_Don’t think._

“If only I can lend you my time.”

**6:30 am**

“Why did you keep the burns?”

“Well, not all. Healed a lot of them after I got my titan powers.”

“Then why not all?”

“I guess to keep myself grounded. To make sure I’ll always be in control over myself. A reminder that my actions can hurt other people... Sometimes, the world feels bleak as shit, so much so that I have to rack my brain for reasons to push through just another day. But I’ll always get back on my feet, because I’ll always manage to find something beautiful to live for.”

*******

_She tells him she’s seen Marleyan couples do this in parties_

_He digs out her father’s old gramophone and raises the lever_

_She places one hand on his shoulder_

_He wraps one arm around her waist_

_She lets his fingers search for hers_

_He lets her lead the way_

_She steps on his foot_

_He stumbles backward_

_She can’t resist a giggle_

_He flashes her a mesmerising smile_

_She finds her rhythm_

_He makes a small turn_

_She sways to the melody_

_He hums the baseline_

_She steals a glance at him_

_He holds her a little tighter_

_She lays her head on his chest_

_He kisses the top of her head_

_She listens to his heartbeat_

_He closes his eyes_

_She feels the world disappear_

_He feels her, his sun and sky_

_She feels her heart breaking, him rapidly slipping away_

_He knows he’ll cherish this moment for the rest of his days_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The song I have in my mind for the last part: [One More Kiss, Dear (Vangelis)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_m_htq9w9CY)  
> \- Just one more section left! I really hope you guys are enjoying this mini 5-day journey with me. See you tomorrow ~


	5. Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Hi, sorry for the late update! I had some academic work due yesterday, so I had to get it out of the way first.  
> \- All cheese must be followed by (emotional) diarrhoea ;)
> 
>  **Today’s song:** [Places We Won’t Walk (Bruno Major)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E68FGi2rZTQ)

*******

Pieck stops a good twenty feet before the wrought iron gates, her tiny shoes glued to the granite pavement, fingers looped around the straps of her backpack; contained within it are the new set of pencils and notebooks that Papa had gifted her for her first day, which left them with just one dollar to spend on yesterday’s dinner. She watches dozens of boys and girls walk past, all heading towards the military headquarters - a short, poker-faced girl with a Roman nose, a tallish brunette sweating buckets, and a narrow-eyed blonde boy strolling in with a confident grin.

Pieck turns back, her eyes darting around the open space of the town centre, identifying at least fifteen possible routes that will take her home. The quickest will be through 74th Street - go straight, pass the shoe shine stall, and make a right turn by the red mail box; walk another four blocks down, then she will be back in the loving arms of her Papa.

His arms, once-strong, now quickly loosing muscle mass and mobility. The unfamiliar hoarseness in Papa’s voice, his jarring weight loss, the persistent coughs and unexplainable fevers that no Eldian doctor had the medication to treat. Pieck had already sold her Ma’s wedding dress and the last of their non-essential furnitures, but that had only earned her a meagre fraction of the expenses required for Papa’s treatment. Suddenly, the many paths laid out in front of Pieck seem to all close down at once; there is only one way forward - the one her father begged her not to take. He had described to her in detail the horrors of war - the sniping, the shelling, the ruthless death and destruction, but none of this scares her more than the prospect of loosing him.

What else would an eight-year old have done?

Pieck licks her lips and scrunches her nose, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other. _I am brave! I am smart! I scored full marks in my last maths test! I can do this!_

A metallic clanging, followed by the ear-piercing noise of a siren snaps Pieck out of her thoughts. She looks up, and watches the front gates begin to close. Her heart leaps out of her chest as she recalls the reminder printed on her registration form in bold: **All late admissions after 8:00 am will be immediately deemed as null and void.** ****

Pieck sprints towards the military headquarters, working every muscle in her body. She pumps her legs to gain more momentum with each push, feeling the wind whip her hair back from her face. The young girl’s heart is racing faster than her feet, her mind now fixed on one single purpose.

She runs and runs, but the automatic gates are moving faster. Pieck is not even halfway there, the iron barrier now two-thirds of the way shut when she feels a hand latch onto hers, tugging her forward. Pieck peeps to her left and is met with a boy with short, swept-back hair; he glances over and shoots her an ambitious smile, revealing his adorable upturned nose. Clutching onto the brunette’s other hand is a shorter boy, his dirty blonde hair styled in a similar manner, its ends now flying horizontal in the wind.

They keep running and running, the boy in the middle dashing forwards and pulling the other two along, never loosening his grip. Pieck quickens her pace until her steps become leaps, the amplifying sound of the sirens now attacking her eardrums.

When they reach the gates,the brunette lets go of their hands and shoves his brother through, then pushes Pieck forward to help her squeeze past the small opening. Finally, the boy stands sideways and eyes the tiny gap - his shoulders drop. He clenches his jaw, brows furrowed, shaking his head-

“MARCEL!”

Pieck watches the blonde boy in front of her rush forward to thrust his arm back out; an intense urgency floods into his amber eyes and sets them ablaze like cracks of lightning. He turns to her for the very first time, his round eyes pleading for her assistance. Pieck immediately steps forward to offer her own hand to the brunette, watching his hesitation shift into flaming determination. He grips onto their wrists and throws himself at the gate, letting them yank him through the shrinking slot. The force of the pull throws him off balance, causing the young boy to crash into his companions and drag them down with him into the mud. They land on top of one another, short arms and legs tangled into a messy pile as the gates slam shut with a loud, reverberant clang.

Pieck lies still for a moment, catching her breath, infinitely relieved to have made it through with the help of the brothers. She moves her head out from under her arm, and catches the blonde boy staring at her from across. He instantly drops his gaze, his left cheek still splattered with mud. Pieck gives him a toothy smile, then reaches forward to rub off the dirt with one sleeve, watching the boy turn bright red under her touch. They hear a chuckle from underneath - Marcel, still crushed under the weight of his brother, now glancing up with a mischievous grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

That day, the brothers invited Pieck over to their table for lunch. She stayed with them through the first week, the first months, through thick and thin - through years of trial, tribulations and triumphs, up until her last breathing moments.

**8:42 am** ****

Porco is adamant on holding Pieck’s hand today. Tucked under his arm is the yellow teddy bear, which Pieck had made him bring to the ceremony as his emotional support buddy.

_“Fine. I guess I’ll have to name her Pieck.”_

They walk out of the house together, turning back to see it one last time. The small dwelling radiated with memories, a lifetime of tears and laughter, now handed back to the Marleyan government to be reissued to a new family.

_One step forward, two steps back._

Porco gives Pieck’s hand a tiny squeeze, then brings it up to his lips and kisses the back of her hand. His lips stretch into a small smile, already the widest one he can muster at the moment.

She takes a deep breath and sets her eyes on the road ahead.

**9:12 am** ****

“Gabi? Zofia?” The girls set down their cups of coffee, and head over to where Pieck and Porco are sat.

“Can you two do me a favour? Pokko and I made these snickerdoodles last night-“

“Wow, you guys made _a lot_.” Zofia reaches into the tote bag and quickly pockets two for herself. “What? They’re delicious!”

“Can you two help us distribute them to everyone at headquarters today? And to my Panzer Unit.”

Zofia lowers her voice, “Simps.” “Zofia!” Porco bursts into laughter and gives the cadet a high-five, immediately receiving an elbow in the stomach from Pieck.

“Oh, and you might also want to leave at least five for Magath.”

Zofia chortles, then grabs the bag and drags Gabi away with her; the poor girl hasn’t uttered a single word since entering the building this morning.

Porco nudges Pieck’s shoulder, “We could have given the cookies ourselves.”

“It’ll keep Gabi’s mind off Reiner for a bit.” She leans into him, their fingers still laced together. “And it’ll give me a bit more time to have you to myself.”

**9:30 am** ****

Porco lets out a little yawn. He rubs his eyes with the back of the teddy bear, earning a small giggle from Pieck.

“Get some sleep when you go back, okay? Magath already promised me to give you the rest of the day off.”

“When?”

“Um, I talked to him like two weeks ago?” Porco shakes his head, the hint of a smile tugging onto his lips.

“Pieck. Galliard.” The Vice-Captain stops before them, already donned in the white ceremonial robes.

“Reiner. Thank you, for volunteering to go first. You feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Just a bit worried about Gabi and my mom.” He turns to Porco, “I see you’ve finally got your act together, Galliard.” A blush spreads across Porco’s face; he pulls Pieck in a little closer. “Yeah.” 

Reiner looks over his shoulder. “Colt?”

“Yup?” Colt is sitting a few feet away, pressing a cool handkerchief onto Falco’s face, to soak off the beads of rapidly sweat rolling down his brother’s forehead. Pieck watches Falco look up at Reiner with fierce determination in his eyes, which Reiner returns with a firm nod to the young cadet.

“Make sure your new War Chief behaves after I’m gone.”

Colt chuckles, “I think you’re asking too much of me, vice-cap.”

Porco rolls his eyes in feign-annoyance, but he steps forward and gives Reiner an affirming pat on the back. “Have a safe ride, buddy.”

“You too. And take care of the kids. Pieck?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you, for looking after Bertholdt… Back when- you know… He really loved you, as a friend.” Pieck feels a softness graze over Reiner’s harsh features, sensing an unmistakeable resolve and relief from him, as if the Warrior has finally found some sort of clarity in his final moments.

“Reiner, I can only say the same to you.”

**9:42 am** ****

Pieck gives Udo’s tense shoulders a shake. “Relax! It’ll be fine!”

“But… You… I don’t want to.”

“Then do me proud. I trust the Cart to no one else but you.” She reaches up to ruffle Udo’s hair - the boy she watched grow up right before her eyes, now a young man and ready to start his own journey.

**9:50 am**

It’s time.

“I don’t want you to go…”

“I’m sorry, Pokko.”

“Don’t say that anymore. None of this is your fault.”

Pieck looks deeply into Porco’s eyes, drinking in his features, desperate to impress every detail into her head. The curve of his nose, the small blemishes on his skin, the usual twinkle in his eyes, now clouded by sorrow.

She leans in closer. “You. It was always you. The light of my life. Thank you.”

A gut-wrenching cry escapes Porco, tears now spilling over and flowing down his face like a river escaping a dam. His breathing fractures into spastic sobs - hands twitching, trembling, gripping onto her then covering his ears, squeezing _; not knowing what to do_.

Pieck closes her fingers around his wrists.

“Follow.” She breathes in and holds her breath, her eyes never leaving his. A few seconds pass, then he does the same. She waits. One. Two. Three. She breathes out, he follows.

In. Out.  
In. Out.  
In. Out.

Her thumb brushes over the sleeve of his jacket to find his pulse. She feels him slowly calming down, heartbeat gradually steadying, his steadiness stabilising her - their two hearts meeting, matching, mingling as one.

He whispers, “You. Always leaving me speechless.”

Their noses touch.

A moment of silence, of feeling the world closing in around them inch-by-inch, second-by-second. Time, a ferocious and fragile thing; her friend, her foe who made her who she is and showed her who she isn’t.

Time, always three steps ahead of her, claiming her parents years too early, and now coming back for her before she is ready to say goodbye.

Time, a rampant cycle of usurpations and losses, like strips of snipped up lives crudely patched together to form one big spherical, impenetrable, inevitable mess. Taking and giving, taking more than it can ever give.

Time wasted, time passed; killing time, fighting time; turning back time before time flies by, but failing every time.

And finally, time, coming to an end for her - now impatiently, relentlessly banging on her door.

Seconds, minutes, hours, lifetimes - _a lifetime that I never got to spend with you._

“Pokko, if you ever find someone else, promise me you’ll follow your heart.”

Porco parts his lips to speak, but he stops himself and simply gives Pieck a small nod. She reaches up and cups his tear-stained face in her hands.

“I love you.”

She leans forward and lets their lips meet one last time.

**10:05 am**

_Don’t think._

**10:28 AM**

_Don’t think._

***

_“Ma… MA! PAPA, MA’S NOT BREATHING!”_

_“Papa I have to. There’s no other way for us to pay the rent and your treatment- It’s okay! I’m excited! I-I’ve always liked challenges!”_

_“Thank you Papa, this is beautiful! Can you use it to tie my hair today?”_

_“Papa look! They gave me the Cart! Commander Magath called us in this morning and- Papa?”_

_“Here, there’s nothing a burger and a soft drink can’t fix! It’s okay, I’m sure you’ll get your chance later. And when you do, you’ll have plenty of experience on the battlefield, so you’ll be better than any of us!”_

_“Zeke, you ready?”_

_“Papa I’m back- OOF you don’t have to squeeze me so tightly, you silly!”_

_“Wanna go to the library with me? I have to return some- No, you meanie! Just because you’re dumber than me doesn’t mean I’m a nerd!“_

_“I respectfully disagree. We need to clear out the vicinity before you transform, and we need some sort of distraction to let the soldiers load your artillery rounds. That can be me. I’m faster, and I’ve got the Panzer Unit. We’ll get it done in fifteen minutes tops - no, make it ten.”_

_“For LYING! I know you hate coffee!”_

_“Papa, do you want to have dinner with the Galliards tomorrow? Pokko said he wanted to meet- No! We’re just-“_

_“Pokko, he didn’t make it... The Jaw. It isn’t him anymore.”_

_“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”_

_“Fine. You know I won’t have to do it, but fine.”_

_“War Chief Zeke, enemy troops are approaching. They've reached the foot.”_

_“I’m so sorry… I couldn’t get to Bert-”_

_“Porco, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”_

_“Reiner is down. I’m going to cover him so the second battalion can retrieve his body, but I don’t think I can hold much longer. Commander Magath, tell Pok-Galliard to take my position and get the War Chief here as soon as- NO! He’s not used to his titan yet and they’re shelling the whole damn area! It’s too dangerous DON’T let Galliard get CLOSE GODDAMMIT LISTEN TO ME-”_

_“Pokko I’m fine, shhh… Shhh… Yes, I’m a shifter, remember? My legs will come back in a little more than a day, tops. Ah the slap is nothing. I was just being, um, stupid.”_

_“Love the new stubble, vice-cap! So a few of us are having drinks down at the garrison tonight, you wanna join? Oh don’t listen to Pokko- Yes we ARE inviting Reiner- Well you don’t get to decide ‘cause it’s a Panzer Unit party!”_

_“But I want to.”_

_"Pokko, he took a lot of hits from those ships. Don't bully him.”_

_“Papa, I made Bolognese for dinner. Yup, Mrs. Galliard baked us garlic bread!”_

_“All treats are on me today! Oi not you Pokko, just the kids! Now put the cookies- NOT IN YOUR MOUTH!”_

_“Where- he’s in the hospital? What happened?… Okay I’ll be there in fifteen minutes-“_

_“Rest well Papa, I’ll see you soon.”_

_“I’m fine.”_

_“I’m fine...”_

_“Can you hold me?”_

_“You might not be as agile, but you’ve got the brains. Assess your opponent and identify their weaknesses. Are they slow? Are they smaller in size? Do they run out of stamina easily? How do you respond to each of these scenarios? The faster you think, the better your chances.”_

_“Hold… hold…. hold… Coming at 3 o’clock NOW FIRE!”_

_“I’m dead serious Pokko. From friend to friend.”_

_“I-I think it’s best we don’t see each other until Monday.”_

_“Thank you Commander. Please help me look after the kids. And Porco.”_

_“Don’t ever second guess yourself.“_

_“Thank you for staying in there. It’ll all be alright.”_

_“No. I tried. I can’t_.”

“ _I will gladly eat my feelings up over and over again if it means-_ “

“It’s not your fault.”

“I love you.”

Udo tears out of the Cart’s nape, his chest heaving as he struggles to control his breathing, wild visions still fervently bouncing around the walls inside his head. He catches a glimpse of Colt rushing down the glass staircase, Zofia and Gabi following closely behind. But his mentor, the girl with the sleepy eyes and messy black hair, is nowhere to be found.

***

“Hello?”

“Can you hear me?”

“Pieck?”

A scruffy beard tickles the top of her head.

Pieck struggles to open her eyes. She feels her hand twitching, muscles slowly coming into function, loosely grasping onto the bed of sand underneath her body.

“Hey, take it slow.”

“Zeke?” Her eyes fly open and meets the War Chief’s, his head looming upside-down over Pieck. Above him is an endless sky, a flood of blues and greens, with a bright band of light stretching from one end to another. Pieck props herself up with one elbow, Zeke supporting her back and assisting her movement. “Are you real?”

Zeke chuckles, now kneeling next to Pieck, facing in towards her. He pinches her cheek - a friendly, familiar gesture between the two. “ZEKE!” She flings her flailing arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “Hey kiddo.”

“Where am I?”

“The Paths. It’s a channel that connects us in the afterlife. I’ll explain more later, when we all get here.”

Pieck hears a series of violent sobs coming from behind Zeke. She glances over and finds Reiner and Bertholdt, locked in a tight embrace. The blonde slings his legs up and around Bertholdt’s waist, the sudden increase in upper-body weight causing the taller man to tumble over. They fall into each other’s arms, Reiner’s face still glued to Bertholdt’s blue knitted sweater, clinging onto him like there’s no tomorrow.

“BERTLETURTLE!” Bertholdt peers over, the world’s brightest smile plastered on his face.

“PIECKY! Oi Reiner, can I go over and say-“

“Nope. Sorry. Not letting you go. Never again.” Reiner mumbles into Bertholdt’s chest, squeezing the man even tighter in his arms. Bertholdt gives Pieck an innocent shrug, mouthing ‘later’ then gently lifts Reiner’s face up to his, to brush away his tears with all the tenderness in the world. A profound affection radiates between the two, surrounding them like a cocoon.

Oh. _Oh._ Pieck resists the urge to smack herself in the head, again. Goldstein, their promise, the drastic change in Reiner’s personality; how did she not know?

“Same.” Zeke pulls away from the hug, then gives her leg a gentle pat. “You feel anything?” Pieck shakes her head. “Don’t worry, it’ll come back in about 30 minutes.” He looks across the barren land, “Annie should be here any minute.”

“Annie?” Annie feels to her like a distant memory, the mysterious comrade who never made it back from Paradis, someone Pieck very much looks forward to getting to know better. “Does this mean Marcel…”

“Yeah, he’s over at the tree collecting nuts and berries for our feast. Oh, and please don’t tease the guy too much, he’s still trapped inside his 12-year-old body.” Pieck breaks into laughter, one of pure, infinite joy; she can’t even begin to imagine how happy Porco will be when he sees-

 _Porco_.

“He’ll be here soon enough.”

“Is mind-reading a thing around here?!”

“I wish.”

“So you’re just really, _really_ good at reading people?”

Zeke shoots her a finger-gun, “As expected of Pieck, that’s exactly right!”

She groans.

***

Waiting at the end of the road is an eternity’s worth of new beginnings. It will be difficult to sit through the next 7 years - excruciating even, as Pieck later learns that time passes by much slower in these realms. But she’d dig her feet into the sand, hiding her anticipation; she’d roll around the empty terrains with a childish excitement she has never felt before.

There are days where she’d fall to the ground, knees grating onto the grainy particles; she’d throw her fists at the gritty surface and let the sand soak up her tears. On those days, she would ask Bertholdt how he made it through: “He was worlds apart, dimensions away, but an invisible thread tied me to him with a double knot. I tried to tug away, but it only got tighter, so I laid back on the sand and let him come to me.”

Seven, seventeen, seventy years - it doesn’t matter; all she knows is that she now has the time to wait.

_See you later, Pokko._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Just to clarify, in this fic, Marley/the Warriors (apart from Zeke) don’t know that the Paths exist; it’s a semi-mythical aspect of the titan powers that probably won’t interest the military anyways. I’m not certain how the Paths work, but I don’t think any of us are ~  
> \- Thank you for reading :)


End file.
